


Open Wounds

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Voltron Oneshots [22]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is less of a bitch, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Protective Lance (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Sign Language, Trauma, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 20:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16311908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: A sequel to Things Time Can't Heal





	Open Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Again, please be careful, this has all of the same warnings on it as the last one.

That year was undoubtedly the worst year of Keith’s life. Worse than even when Shiro had disappeared. To this day the memories bore down on him like weights-- like bruises. 

Lance thought he was asleep. He wasn’t, not really. He dozed, nothing more. They always came when he slept. 

He’d thought Shiro was going to, earlier. He’d done what he’d been taught.

_ “What do we do when we want to make noise?” The man’s breath was hot over his cheekbone. Slowly he raised a hand, pressing it over his mouth like the man had told him to do the night before. The night before that Keith had refused and been forced, the man’s much larger hand making it hard to breathe. It was easier if he cooperated. _

_ “Good boy,” the man purred, large hand beginning to worm under the blankets, and Keith stifled his whimper.  _

Shiro hadn’t done it, merely bandaged the wound on his shoulder and pulled him down the hall to the lounge for Lance to watch over. Still he sat motionless and silent, as he’d been taught. He had to be on his best behavior at all times now, now that everyone knew how bad he was on the inside. Lance had always hated him anyway. He wouldn’t hesitate to punish Keith if he was bad. He was probably waiting for it.

_ Quiet was good. Talking was bad. It was as true at school as it was in the house: kids who talked got scolded. Kids who were quiet got praises and nice words on their report cards. Quiet was good. Talking was bad. Moving from a spot without being told was bad. Not doing exactly what he was told was bad. Bad meant more pain. Good meant less, not none, because he was bad on the inside and deserved it, but less if he could pretend he was good on the outside. _

Quiet was good. Talking was bad. The mantra fit easily right back into the groove it had worn in his mind all those years ago. He had to be good or they’d take Red. He could be good, he wanted to be good, he wanted to be a good person. He’d do whatever they wanted as long as he got to stay with Red. Even if he had to be quiet, even if Allura beat him, even if they made him sleep on the floor or in a closet, even if they starved him, even if Shiro or Lance hauled him into a dark corner and made him muffle himself, he’d do it. He’d be good.

Hours passed, and Keith dozed in his same position, even when his neck began to ache. He hadn’t been told to move. 

Lance seemed to be ignoring him (which was good, being ignored meant he was being good) and Keith’s mind wandered. He couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep-- it all blended together into a jumble. 

_ “I don’t understand, why do you want to be bad?” _

Allura’s hand flew.

_ “Don’t you want to be good for me?” _

Shiro’s hands are tight on his shoulders. He’d talked at the pods. He’d forgotten, and Shiro had hauled him away for his punishment but it hadn’t happened yet. Maybe he’d told Lance to take care of it, surely he had better things to do, and Lance was making him wait to torment him.

_ “Good boy, that’s what I thought.” _

The door to the lounge hissed. Keith tensed but didn’t move an inch. 

“Hey, Lance. Thanks for watching him. You can go to bed now.” Shiro sounded very, very tired. Keith could sympathize. He was tired too. 

“No problem.” Lance’s chair scraped back. “Let me know if you need anything. I wanna help.”

“It’s appreciated. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

Footsteps, a door closed. More footsteps, coming closer, and Keith held his breath. 

“Keith?” He shifted a bit, raised his eyes just a little to show he’d heard. Shiro knelt down in front of him, and despite his urge to flinch back, he knew better and held still.

“How are you feeling, bud? Think you can talk to me?”

Words rose automatically in his throat before fear locked them there.

_ “What do we do when we want to make noise?” _

Keith put a hand over his mouth, and Shiro’s eyes grew shiny. 

“Ok, look, here--” Shiro raised his hands, slowly, and began to form the familiar gestures. They were clumsy and unpracticed, but he understood.

<Do you remember?>

With a gulp of trepidation, Keith signed back, <Yes.>

_ “Ok Keith, watch, this is what you do if you mean yes.” The woman made a fist with one hand and brought it forward twice, like she was knocking on a door. “Wanna try?” _

_ Keith, with trembling hands, copied the motion. He half expected it to be a trick, an excuse to hurt him, but the woman beamed at him instead.  _

_ “Good, that was great! Your turn, Takashi.” _

“Good. What’s going through your head right now?”

Keith hesitated for a split second, trying to remember the gestures.

<Want to be good.>

Shiro picked up his hand, as though to reach out for him, but thought better of it and put it back on his knee. 

“You are, Keith. You don’t have to follow those old rules, we know you’re good.”

Keith shook his head.

<I’m Galra. Bad.>

“Keith, listen to me. No one is going to hurt you. Not me, or Allura, or anyone else. I swear. You don’t have to be afraid.”

He curled his fingers, unsure. He wanted to believe him. He trusted Shiro more than anyone. But-- what if?

<Don’t want to talk.>

“That’s alright.” Shiro’s voice was soothing. Keith’s eyes were dry and itchy and wanted to close. “I won’t make you.”

Keith breathed a little deeper and signed his thanks. 

“Do you want to sleep in your room or out here?”

Keith’s hands retreated behind his knees. Out here wasn’t good, it was open and exposed and anyone could come in, but his room wasn’t any better, everyone knew it was his. He shouldn’t be greedy, shouldn’t try to ask for more, but…

_ “If you ever need anything, ask. I won’t get mad, I promise.” _

He could see that same earnestness in Shiro’s eyes now, and it made it a little easier to ask. 

<Can I sleep in Red?> He half expected Shiro to say no, that Allura had taken Red back, but instead he smiled and almost looked relieved. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.”

* * *

Lance didn’t go to bed. Instead he went to the bridge, hoping to catch Allura. She was still there, sitting on the edge of her podium, torso curled over her knees. He felt a pang, an urge to rush forward and comfort (because she’s crying, isn’t she?) but then he remembered the sound Keith’s knees made when they hit the floor and held himself back. 

“Princess?”

She looked up through red rimmed eyes and gave a very unregal sniffle. 

“Yes, Lance?”

He shuffled a step closer-- just a step. 

“Are you going to make Keith leave?”

She blinked-- he wasn’t usually so blunt, but he was tired and he’d made himself sad thinking about what Keith’s life must’ve been like to make him how he was.

For a long moment Allura didn’t answer. She was breathing deep, trying to stop the tears. She was tired too, in her rumpled millenia old dress from a place that no longer existed.

“No,” she murmured eventually, letting Lance’s shoulders lose their tension, “The Red Lion has chosen him.”

Lance’s eyes burned. “Is that the only reason?”

She stared at the floor.

_ Please say no,  _ he thought,  _ For Keith’s sake, please say no.  _

“I don’t know.”

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the pain. He was sore, muscles stiff and burning, and the wounds hurt. Especially his bandaged shoulder.

The Blades really hadn’t pulled their punches.

He forced his eyes open and was greeted by soft grey steel and warm red light. Red rumbled quietly, soothing. He was curled on his good side on the floor of her cockpit, surrounded by blankets and pillows Shiro had stolen from various rooms on their way down to the hangar the night before. 

The man himself was there too, lying beside him, and he was already awake. The panic was instinctive, but he forced it back. He swallowed hard and breathed.

“Hi.”

Shiro smiled. “Hey bud. How are you feeling?”

Keith cleared his throat. Talking was hard-- like each syllable was tangled in a rope he had to haul free of the quicksand filling his esophagus. 

“Sore.”

Shiro made a small sound of understanding. “We can stop by the med bay for some pain killers if you want.” He didn’t suggest the pods again, to Keith’s relief. He couldn’t handle that, not yet. 

“Yeah, sounds good.”

God, he was already tired again. Relapsing sucked-- it had happened a couple of times before. The last time had been after getting expelled from the Garrison, but he hadn’t had anyone to talk to anyway, so he could work through it slowly. He couldn’t do that this time.

Keith made no move to get up, so neither did Shiro. They just laid there, content with the silence, until Shiro gently reached out a hand.

“Can I touch you?”

Keith nodded and Shiro ran the hand through his hair. At first the contact made him tense, but soon he was leaning into it. It was easier to ignore the dark thoughts now-- he wasn’t as exhausted, wasn’t in as much pain, wasn’t reeling from revelations and crashing from adrenaline. Still the fear lurked, shadowed corners at the edges of his vision.

“What’s gonna happen?”

He couldn’t keep this up. Words were too difficult, required too much courage to force out when that old mantra still hadn’t unwound its python grip on his mind. He’d be back to sign language soon. 

_ “You can try again tomorrow,” said the woman with the bright smile and grey eyes. “Little steps.” _

Maybe in a week or two he’d be back to talking properly, if he tried hard. If they wanted him to. If he was still there.

Shiro’s smile slipped, but he didn’t stop the movement of his hand.

“Nothing,” he murmured so softly. “Nothing’s going to happen. We made a plan with Kolivan, we just need to put everything together and then we can take down Zarkon.”

Keith took a deep breath and pushed himself for another sentence.

“I’m still a paladin?”

Moving slowly, careful not to spook him, Shiro pulled him into a hug until Keith was half over his torso, being calmed by his heartbeat. 

“Yes. You’ll always be a paladin. Red chose you, and this doesn’t change that. It doesn’t change anything.”

_ It.  _ His Galra blood. At least now he had something to blame for all of the bad inside him.

“You’re not bad,” Shiro whispered into his hair, guessing his thoughts. “You’re a good person, Keith. You’re kind, and brave, and loyal, and I’m glad that you’re here with me.”

He just let out a little breath of air in response. He felt like he had back when he was thirteen and Shiro had decided to leave sticky notes all over the house with nice things about Keith written all over them. A little overwhelmed, a little unsure, but with warmth in his chest. 

“Do you wanna come with me to the med bay, or should I go myself?”

Before Keith had to think of an answer a  _ thunk _ rang through the lion, like something had hit it. The sound repeated several more times before stopping.

“I think someone is knocking,” said Shiro, bemused, and Keith let out a tiny soundless chuckle. “Should we tell them to come in?”

His stomach twisted a little, still concerned about how the others were going to react to the realization now that they didn’t have to worry about him passing out on them, but he nodded anyway and watched with anxious eyes while Shiro rose to grant them access to the lion. Another thing to worry about: he wasn’t sure he had the energy for any more words at the moment. Would they be angry and think he was ignoring them? This interaction could go any number of ways and he couldn’t possibly prepare himself for all of them in the few seconds it took for them to arrive.

The group, to his surprise, consisted of everyone else aboard the Castle. The paladins, Coran, and even Allura, though for the moment she hung in the back as everyone tried to cram into Red’s cockpit.

“Hey, Shiro, why didn’t you tell us you guys were having a cuddle party?” It’s fake offense from Lance and everyone knows it, but they all smile a little and play along, even Keith, if only to forget the tension in the air between himself and Allura and the steadily growing pit of dread in his stomach.

“Mind if we join?” Asked Hunk. Uncertainty stirred but Keith nodded his assent anyway and the group bumbled toward the blankets to settle in around him and Shiro. Lance and Hunk took the edges of the pile a safe distance away, but Pidge sprawled herself across his lap stomach first like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Coran laid at their feet, his chin propped up on his hand. 

“So,” Pidge began almost too casually, “What were the names of those Blades you fought?”

Keith, confused by the question, merely frowned. Luckily Pidge could guess what his silence meant and elaborated.

“So I can kick their butts for beating you up so bad.”

Keith was surprised into smiling, just a little bit.

“Don’t you worry, Number Four!” Coran proclaimed, his loud voice echoing slightly in the lion and making all of them wince. “I have some special bandages hidden away that will get you all healed up in a tic, no pod required!”

Thankfully Lance started talking before Keith had to try and use words to thank him for that kindness.

“Yeah, and once you’re better we can show you the awesome plan we figured out to take down Zarkon. It’s gonna be  _ sweet.” _

“We’re gonna go on duo missions!” Hunk chimed in excitedly, wringing his hands on the edge of one of the blankets. “You got matched up with me, Keith, and--”

“Ap-bup-bup-bup! Don’t tell him everything now, or there won’t be a surprise!”

Pidge scoffed at Lance and swung her feet in the air. “It’s a battle plan, Lance, not a birthday present.”

“I don’t know,” said Shiro, “I think a battle plan is a pretty good gift.”

“The fall of Zarkon would be a better one.”

Suddenly Allura stepped forward from where she’d been hovering and all of the chatter immediately vanished, Keith going still at the single click of her heel on the metal floor. Shiro wrapped an arm around his shoulder to comfort him, but every muscle had tensed and it was probably more like hugging a statue than a person. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t figure out her expression, and that just made him more anxious.

“Keith,” said the Princess, and he braced himself to be thrown out, to be condemned, for her to allow him to stay under a strenuous set of conditions, but surprisingly none of that happened. She hesitated for a moment, like she didn’t know what to say, before continuing with, “I’m very, very sorry.”

Wait, what?

“My behavior last night wasn’t very hospitable, and I regret that I caused you distress. I want you to know that your ancestry will have no bearing on your place on this team. As long as a lion has chosen you, you will remain a paladin.”

She was trying really hard, Keith could see that. And maybe she didn’t quite mean all of her words, not yet. There was a tightness at the corners of her eyes and mouth, but she was trying. And he couldn’t manage words, not to her, but he gave her the best smile he could manage and signed the word for thank you, trusting that Shiro would find the time to explain to her what it meant.

  
  



End file.
